


Jealousy

by juniperallura



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Pining, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-16 13:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperallura/pseuds/juniperallura
Summary: As the team forges a new alliance, Shiro must confront a figure from Allura's past, a new challenge, and his own feelings





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Basically an excuse to have Shiro burning in jealousy when Allura finds herself with a suitor)

“ _ **Paladins, report to your stations!** ”_

Shiro met his own panicked eyes in the mirror as the curt call sounded throughout his quarters— he was late. He quickly spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, pulling off his t-shirt as he jogged to his bed, where his black training suit lay waiting. 

A few minutes later he trotted through the deck’s sliding door; he was the first one there. Allura and Coran were standing together at Allura’s station, chatting rather leisurely in light of the alarm. “Princess, Coran,” Shiro tucked his helmet under his arm, approaching them with knit brows, “What’s happening?”

“Oh, good morning, Shiro!” Allura turned to him with a pleasant smile, but her expression faltered when she met Shiro’s eyes. Coran had an equally strange expression on his face, but nodded to him. When Shiro’s glance returned to Allura, she seemed to be stifling a giggle.

“What-” Shiro caught a glimpse of himself in the Castle window. After a night of restless sleep, his hair was matted down, pressed in odd angles against his forehead; an unflattering comparison to a skunk crossed his mind. In his rush to reach the deck, he had neglected to even run a comb through the mess. A peep managed to escape Allura’s tightly locked lips. Shiro’s face flushed as he quickly ran a hand through his hair, trying to muss it up as best he could. He trepidatiously met Allura’s eyes— she gave him a small nod of approval, the corner of her mouth curling up almost indiscernibly. He cleared his throat, “So- what’s going on? Is it the Galra?”

“On the contrary,” Allura clasped her hands at her chest, her face lighting up with excitement. “We’ve made quite an exciting discovery!”

“We sounded the alarm so you Paladins would hurry,” Coran explained, “But, as usual, the others don’t seem to be in a rush to get here-”

Shiro’s posture deflated a little, tiredness creeping back into the corners of his mind as the threat of imminent danger faded. But still, from the sparkle in Allura’s eye it must’ve been important. “A new discovery? Like a planet? An ally?” 

“A keen guess, Shiro.” Allura smiled warmly at him; it wasn’t without difficulty that he met her eyes without flushing. “But it’s not a _new_ planet. In fact, it’s very old.”

She and Coran exchanged knowing smirks. Shiro prompted them with a raised brow. Coran tapped a monitor, pulling up coordinates and a rotating model of a planet cloaked in what looked like rings of mist. “Behold, the planet Andrean! It’s quite beautiful, famous for it’s vast oceans and sparkling mist, known to the locals as _shelnor_ ,” Coran gave the projection a spin. 

“The Andreans were one of our closest allies, even before the war. They are a sort of _cousin_ species to Alteans- long ago we shared a common ancestor.” Allura’s gaze glazed over as she smiled wistfully, “I have many fond memories of Andrean from my childhood, when I accompanied Father on diplomatic trips.”

Coran leaned over to Shiro, shielding his mouth from Allura but speaking loud enough for her to hear, “She and Prince Ronan were quite the little scamps! Almost destroyed half the castle in their romps- what terrors!”

“Coran!” Allura chided him but couldn’t hold a serious face for long, nostalgia sweeping over as she let out a giggle. “We were quite close in those days- and quite misbehaved.”

Something turned in Shiro’s stomach at the sound of her sweet laugh, but his brow knit as a strange twinge of annoyance brought heat to his face. He crossed his arms, “Do you think this prince is still alive? How are you sure we can trust them- what if this is a trap?”

The Altean’s faces dropped, Coran looking surprised and Allura a little hurt by his suspicion. She folded her arms over her chest, frowning at Shiro. “It’s true their lifespans aren’t _that_ long, but it’s possible he is survived by a grandson. The Andreans are a brave and strong people- they would have been destroyed rather than bow to the Galra. From what we gathered from their encoded message, they have remained an allied stronghold and their quadrant is on the edges of Zarkon’s rule.” She closed the monitor, giving Shiro a searching look. “Of course we will proceed with caution, but I ask that you trust me on this, Shiro.”

The idea of _Prince Ronan_ was still tugging at his mind, but Shiro’s doubts couldn’t stand up to the voice that asked _trust me_. He nodded. 

Just then, the rest of the Paladins burst through the door, huffing and puffing.  _“Are we late-?”_

| **v** | **o** | **l** | **t** | **r** | **o** | **n** | _  
_

There was something satisfying about his bare feet against the cold metal floor. After being ripped from reality and turned inside out by another night terror, the tactility of his skin pressing and peeling from the floor in a solid rhythm was comforting. So Shiro walked, although it was less of his usual centurion perimeter check and more of an exploratory meandering; he hadn’t even changed from his t-shirt and sweatpants back into his training suit. 

His thoughts filed through the next day’s itinerary. It was always a big undertaking when the whole team went planet-side, but from their briefing it seemed like this mission almost had the potential to be _pleasant_. At least, that was what Allura and Coran said; Shiro still harbored his doubts.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a movement in his peripheral. He froze, eyes darting to the corner he had just rounded. The Castle lights caught a sweep of gauzy, shimmering fabric, bouncing off locks of white hair like moonlight. For a second Shiro wondered if it was some apparition— but it was Allura. 

Her eyes flashed to Shiro, a smile dawning on her face as she recognized the figure who looked back at her in surprise. “Hello, Shiro,” she raised a hand in greeting, the bell sleeve of her flowing nightgown falling to her elbow. “I thought I might run into you.”

Shiro let out a short chuckle as she approached. “I’m that predictable, huh?” Allura laughed, but her smile faded into a look of concern as she drew nearer and saw the dark pools under his eyes. He grimaced under her searching gaze- but concern was at least better than pity. Shiro felt the need to add, “I- uh, couldn’t sleep.”

Her hand hesitated for a moment in the space between them, but came to rest on his arm. An understanding smile softened her face. “Me neither.”

It wasn’t until he felt her touch that Shiro realized his fists were still clenched. He relaxed with a sigh, offering a grateful smile as her hands returned to clasp in front of her. In a pattern that had begun to repeat itself with increasing frequency, the two made their way side by side down the hall, tracing a vague path toward the bridge. Shiro looked down and noticed that Allura’s feet, peeking out from her silk slip, were also bare; for some reason this brought a small smile to his face. When he looked up, Allura was watching him with amusement. Shiro was glad the dim night lighting hid his blush.

He cleared his throat, breaking their intimate silence. “Do you think the Andreans will be offended when the leaders of Voltron fall asleep on them?”

Allura let out a short laugh, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m certain you’ve done much more with much less sleep. However-” She raised a pensive hand to her cheek, catching her lip in her teeth. “I must confess, I’m quite nervous about tomorrow. It feels odd, somehow, to be returning to Andrean like this.”

Shiro nodded. “That’s understandable. A lot has changed in ten thousand years.” He hesitated for a moment, his mind going back to their earlier conversation. “You seem to have a lot of memories there.”

His prompting words broke Allura’s sober expression. “Oh yes,” she chuckled, “Coran was right about me being a troublemaker. I don’t know how Father dealt with it-” She cut herself off when a smirk curled at the corner of Shiro’s lips. She turned toward him, asking incredulously, “ _What?_ ”

“Nothing,” Shiro gave her a crooked grin, “I’m just trying to picture  _you_ as a rule-breaking rebel- it’s hard to imagine.”

Allura ducked her head for a moment, her cheeks reddening. “Well, I was barely a teenager— and things were different back then.”

They had reached the deck. Shiro stretched the fingers of his prosthetic. “Very different,” he murmured. 

Allura sank onto one of the platform steps, looking out at the stars with a sigh. She bit her lip, the thoughts that had prevented her slumber returning once again. Shiro sat gingerly next to her, his eyes watching as her face slowly fell. He propped his forearms on his knees, following her gaze out the windows. He swallowed. “So, tell me about about Andrean- and about Prince Ronan.”

Allura turned to him with a soft smile. She knew what he was doing, but let herself be distracted. “What would you like to know, Shiro?”

He shrugged. “Anything.” 

“Hm, let me think,” she hummed. She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Slowly, the smile returned to her face and her eyes became glassy as memories clouded her vision. “Well, there was this Altean minister named Pelha; he was always a grouch, I remember that quite clearly. And one day he and my father were meeting in the Great Hall with King Lon, and Ronan and I were _very_ bored…”

Shiro couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as Allura spoke. She looked so _happy,_ describing the castle and recounting the tale of what apparently was the greatest cake heist of all Andrean history. Her eyes sparkled, her laughter was light— all of her seemed to _glow_ and Shiro felt pulled into her voice. His heart thrummed in his chest, but he couldn’t bother to reprimand himself until there was a stutter in Allura’s voice-

“So we ran into this tiny broom closet and we-” She broke off, looking suddenly very aware of where and when she was. Allura looked away but Shiro immediately noticed the redness that crept into her face. The light feeling in his chest abruptly dropped into something cold and sharp and black as the image of Allura, face to face with some _Prince_ with a closeness he could never imagine, flashed in his mind. He drew in a breath, cursing himself for the tension that sprang up between them. She cleared her throat and continued, “-And then Pelha found us and dragged us both by the ear straight to Coran. I can’t remember how in the worlds we got out of _that_.”

Shiro forced himself to meet her eyes again. He tried to keep his tone light, “It sounds like you two were quite the pair.”

Allura’s eyes seemed to pierce his as she searched his face with an odd expression. “Yes, we were good friends. Ronan was easy to talk to-” She flashed a tentative smile. “Like you.”

Now Shiro’s neck was twice as hot and he felt twice as guilty; nevertheless, he couldn’t help mirroring her smile.

Allura didn’t let the silence stretch for too long. Her skirt rustled as she stood. “Well, I should be off to bed- it’s only a few vargas until we need to be up again.”

Shiro blinked, just then noticing how long they had been talking. “I should probably try to sleep, too,” he sighed. She offered her hand and he clasped it gratefully, hauling himself up off the floor.

“Listen, Shiro,” Allura held his eyes, her face suddenly serious. “I understand if you think my personal feelings about Andrean are clouding my judgement, but I want you to know— I would not have such confidence in this mission if I didn’t trust you to see where I am blind.”

There was not much Shiro could do in the face of such sincerity besides meeting her eyes and nodding in understanding. After a moment he said softly, “You should get some sleep, Princess.”

Something about that must have struck Allura as funny, because she let out a puff of air and smiled up at him, musing as she turned to leave, “Always so respectful…”

It wasn’t until Allura’s fingers dragged along his palm that Shiro realized their hands had still been folded over one another. Her goodnight rang in his ears as her footsteps retreated down the hall and he was left to gaze absently into the dark sky, his stomach churning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team arrives on Andrean and meet the charming Prince Xor. Completely unrelated, Shiro's mood dips and he begins to avoid Allura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Bit of a mood shift from part one— Shiro takes over Keith's role as Team Emo.)

Shiro’s metal fingers clicked sharply against the long marble table. The rhythmic tapping floated up into the vaults of the Andrean castle’s Great Hall, where it folded into the sound of hushed meeting-table conversation, the scurrying of castle staff, and the ever-present lull of the nearby ocean. It was nearing the end of the seventh consecutive day of never-ending diplomatic meetings and Shiro’s focus was beginning to wear; he had no idea how the other Paladins bore it so well. Maybe because the novelty of the new planet was still fresh for them, or because they all could sleep more than four hours a night, ~~or because Prince Xor’s face didn’t inexplicably piss them off like it did to Shiro.~~  

It had been a long week.

In all fairness, Andrean _was_ just as impressive as Coran had said. The spires of the royal castle stretched far into the clouds, its white facade reflecting the glittering mist that obscured part of the blue sky. An entourage of banners, musicians, and diplomatic corps had waited to greet them at the castle’s sweeping steps, scores of Andreans thronging at the sides of the wide central avenue. Allura’s descriptions of them as the cousin of Alteans seemed accurate; their ears had a similar shape and the crowd was a rainbow of different hair colors, but Shiro didn’t notice any facial markings like Allura or Coran’s. 

The whole flight down he had been preoccupied with memories of the night before; he could feel the Black Lion snickering at him when he thought about Allura’s face, soft and flushing as she transported them into the past, talking longingly of her memories of Andrean. Of Prince Ronan. The sweet, witty, _devastatingly handsome_ prince that loomed in Shiro’s consciousness. _Sure_ , the devastatingly handsome part was his own invention, but still, her words starting something brewing in his chest that he didn’t like (and would never admit.) 

He was temporarily distracted from his thoughts when a man in a white tunic stepped forward to call, “ _Princess Allura of Altea. The Royal Adviser of Altea. Paladins of Voltron. Welcome, honored guests and allies, to Andrean!_ ” The crowd erupted in cheers, and for a moment Shiro thought that Lance might’ve been onto something with all his talk about parades. Evidently all the Paladins were thinking the same thing, as they met each other’s glances with wide grins.

Then the announcer stepped forward again to call, “ _Presenting, Prince Xor of Andrean!”_ Again, the crowd erupted, but now the Paladin’s attention was fixed on the figure that emerged from the group at the top of the steps. Shiro’s glance flickered to Allura, whose hands were gripping each other tightly behind her back but face appeared serene and dignified.

A sharp figure in a navy cape began descending the stairs and something dropped in Shiro’s stomach. Prince Xor _. Devastatingly_ handsome may have been an exaggeration, but— 

“Princess Allura, may I say how profoundly honored I am to be hosting the representatives of Altea on our planet once again?” His voice was gentle but clear, smooth as goddamn silk. Upon reaching them he crossed an arm over his chest, dipping into a deep bow. As he straightened, he took Allura’s outstretched hand in his, brushing a kiss at her knuckles. The way he said her name sent a flare of heat up Shiro’s neck; and, to Shiro’s horror, it seemed to have a similar effect on Allura, whose eyes were wide and blinking. 

Formal introductions were made. Coran looked positively ecstatic as he gave the prince a short bow, but Shiro couldn’t help clenching his jaw through the proceedings. Allura turned toward the Paladins, the rest of whom still looked overwhelmed by the crowds, saying, “And these are-”

Shiro stepped forward. “-Takashi Shirogane, Pilot of the Black Lion.” His dark eyes held the light green of Prince Xor’s as he met the prince’s extended hand with a firm grip. Had Shiro not been so busy searching the tan, angular face in front of him he would have seen the daggers in Allura’s pointed gaze.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of introductions, tours, and briefings, with ten new things being added to the next day’s agenda every hour. By that nightfall, everyone was grateful to be shown to their quarters. Shiro fell into bed with a huff, staring into the inky shadows as his brain whirred with information to process. Eventually he gave up trying to pin down his impressions of everything- and everyone- and his eyes fluttered shut. He rolled over and tried to will himself to sleep, but one incident wouldn’t stop replaying itself in his mind.

They were walking through the north wing of the castle, near the meeting chambers. The group rounded a corner and Allura, who was walking side by side with Xor at the front, gasped. “ _Ronan,_ ” she said, clasping her hands at her chest.

“Ah, you recognize my grandfather? I thought you might.” Xor smiled, cocking his head as he gazed up at the imposing portrait that hung in the center of the wall. An older figure, whose head was adorned with a silver crown, laid a heavy hand on a young man with carefully slicked white hair and gleaming green eyes. “This was painted before he became King. I didn’t know him very well- he passed away when I was a boy- but my father said he spoke often of the Princess of Altea.”

Allura pressed her lips together as she tried to hide a pleased smile. Her eyes flickered between the portrait and the figure in front of her. “You bear a striking resemblance to him, Prince Xor.”

“So I have been told, Princess, thank you,” Xor laughed pleasantly and bowed his head toward her before gesturing to the rest of the hall. “Shall we?”

Everyone began to shuffle past the painting, but Shiro noticed Allura’s head turn as her eyes lingered on the portrait.

    “— _Shiro?_ ”

He blinked. Suddenly he was sucked out of his deep reverie and back into the Great Hall. Allura was looking at him with a mix of annoyance and concern, an expression which had become more common the more he tried to avoid her that week. He glanced around; all the other Paladins were peering at him inquisitively.

Allura repeated her initial question- “Do you have anything to add, Shiro?”

“No,” Shiro cleared his throat, heat coming into his cheeks like a reprimanded grade-schooler, “I’m all set.” His gaze quickly flickered back to the table top.

“Very well, then this meeting is adjourned. Thank you again, gentlemen of the Council.” She nodded at the Andrean diplomats, but her eyes remained fixed on Shiro. She added in a lower voice, “Maybe you should get some sleep before dinner, Shiro.”

He looked back up at her. “Of course, Princess.” Something in his tone made the title feel disrespectful. They held each others’ gaze for a second before Shiro stood up, gathering his briefing tablet under his arm with a frown.

As he was leaving he saw Prince Xor approaching Allura out of the corner of his eye. She mirrored his warm smile as he murmured, “Princess, there’s one more thing I wanted to ask…” Shiro didn’t miss his hand brushing the small of her back for a moment as he led her away from the table. 

He didn’t need sleep—he needed a stiff drink.

| **v** | **o** | **l** | **t** | **r** | **o** | **n** | 

Shiro was one of the last ones to arrive at dinner. He tried to make a move on the empty seat between Hunk and Keith, but Xor simply _insisted_ that he sit with him and Allura at the head of the table. Shiro thanked him graciously through gritted teeth, happy at least that Pidge was on his other side.

Allura met his gaze evenly from across the table as he sat down, but her eyes dropped as she picked up her goblet and asked with an oddly casual tone, “Are you feeling rested, Shiro?”

He paused in the middle of unfolding his napkin, giving her a rather stony look. “Yes, thank you, Princess.”

Shiro tried to ignore the raised brow Keith was directing at him. Xor seemed oblivious to the chill in their exchange. He leaned forward amicably, saying with a smile, “I’m surprised you didn’t need rest yourself, Allura-” He turned to the other Paladins, “We walked the whole gardens earlier, they’re quite expansive.”

 _Allura_. Shiro glanced up from his drink; he couldn’t read the expression on the princess’ face.

Much to Shiro’s surprise, the rest of dinner passed pleasantly. He admitted to himself, begrudgingly, that Xor was a charming host. By the fourth glass of Andrean wine ( _their_ fourth— Shiro told the waiter to cut the younger Paladins off at two after Lance told them Earth’s ‘Planetary Drinking Age’ was _eight_ ) he was even laughing at Xor’s stories. Allura caught his eye with a smile, seemingly pleased that his mood had improved; Shiro was glad the alcohol was there to take the blame for his flush. 

Toward the end of the meal the whole room seemed to glow, candlelight and laughter bouncing off the warm marble walls. Lance especially was having fun answering the prince’s questions about Earth traditions, when Pidge leaned in front of Shiro to ask, “I’ve been thinking about something— why are you still called _Prince_ Xor? If your dad is dead, shouldn’t you be _King_ Xor?”

“ _Pidge_ ,” Shiro reprimanded her lightly for the insensitive tone.

“No, it’s okay-” Xor held up his hand, addressing Pidge with a smile. “It is a good question. Technically, yes, my title _should_ be King. You may know, Paladin, that my father- King Loen- passed away when I was a little older than you. It was during our last battle with the Galra-” The undercurrent of jovial murmurs died down as everyone’s eyes turned to the prince. “-And although we won the battle, he suffered many serious wounds. He was a brave man, who sacrificed himself for Andrean’s independence.” A bittersweet smile came into Xor’s face. “I keep the title _Prince_ as a sign of respect to him.”

Hunk, who looked almost on the verge of tears, asked, “Do you think you’ll _ever_ change it?”

Xor paused to consider the question. “If the Galra are defeated in my lifetime, I will take his title.”

Everyone nodded pensively. Allura, whose lips were curled into a soft smile but eyes glinted with moisture, said, “I understand that very well, Prince Xor.” Shiro’s eyes were glued to the table top, where Allura’s hand moved to rest just shy of Xor’s. Everything seemed to drop— the flickering candlelight made him dizzy, and the stone walls just felt cold and heavy.

Suddenly, Xor stood up, holding his goblet aloft and addressing the span of the long banquet table. “May I propose a toast-” When his voice rang out, all other conversation ceased. The guests lifted their classes and he continued, glancing down at Allura, “We had heard rumors, but didn’t dare believe them to be true. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I am deeply honored to raise a glass to the Princess of Altea— may she live another ten thousand years!”

Shiro had never seen Allura so _crimson_ in his life, as a rousing cheer went up from the table. She would only meet his gaze for a second before looking away, and seemed not to hear the successive toasts to Voltron, to the alliance, to the collapse of the Empire. Indeed, Shiro was distracted himself as the gathering broke up, his mind preoccupied with the expression on Allura’s face when she had said _I understand_. 

He was relieved to make it back to his room, where everything was calm and cool and dim. He pushed through the double doors that led to a small balcony, closing his eyes and filling his chest with the cool air that blew in from the sea; it didn’t have the _salt_ of Earth’s ocean breezes, but it was still crisp and refreshing. The tide kept up a gentle rhythm and the shelnor glittered low in the sky; he could feel himself decompressing in the blue and silver light. As Shiro sighed and leaned his elbows against the carved balustrade, he heard two feminine voices floating down from the balcony that jutted out above him.

“-Did you have a pleasant evening, Tala?” 

His attention was immediately piqued when he recognized Allura’s velvet tone.

“Surely not as pleasant as yours, Your Highness— please, I insist you sit, Princess.” 

“Thank you, but I can brush my own hair, Ta-”

“I have orders to tend to you, Princess- would you have me disobey the Prince?” 

Allura muttered something Shiro couldn’t hear. Tala, who he presumed to be her maid, laughed. His mind was telling him to go inside, that he couldn’t be out there eavesdropping like a child, but his body was frozen.

“So how do you find Prince Xor? He is quite the dinner companion, no?”

“Yes,” Allura agreed, “He is a very- _attentive_ host.”

“I think every girl on Andrean has a crush on him. I don’t blame them— those eyes! Those ears!” Tala let out a hooting chuckle, “Just don’t tell my husband!”

Allura’s laugh rang out from her balcony. There was a second of silence before she mused, “He _is_ handsome. I knew his grandfather well, they are very similar in appearance.”

“You know, Princess,” Tala’s voice dropped and Shiro had to strain to hear, “I heard your Royal Adviser speaking with one of our ministers in the Hall yesterday, about how both of you are of marrying age—”

Shiro barely stuck around in time to hear Allura finish the word, “ _Coran?_ ” In a flash he was on the other side of the doors, face red, heart racing, and stomach knotted. His metal hand was cool against his burning cheeks as he dragged it down his face. _Marrying age?_

The voice in the back of his head told him it made perfect sense; the Alteans and Andreans already had a long history, why not make the ties official? Then they could lead the charge against Zarkon together, and go for long walks in the gardens together, or whatever the fuck else diplomatic power couples did. And she thought he was _handsome_. Shiro caught his own reflection in the glass of the door, reaching a hand up to pull at his small, rounded ears. He’d never felt bad about being _human_ before— it wasn’t a feeling he savored. 

Just then somebody rapped at his bedroom door. For a moment his heart stopped, but Keith’s muffled voice called, “Shiro?”

Shiro sighed, chiding himself for all the drama. He recollected his countenance and opened the door. “What’s up, Keith?”

Keith frowned, peering into the dark room. “I heard something slam- are you okay?”

Shiro insisted he was fine, but Keith somehow ended up in his suite, turning on the lights and giving him a concerned look from his couch. “You’ve been acting weird all week, Shiro. Is everything alright?”

Shiro sat on the edge of his bed, considering how much- if anything- to divulge. He asked tentatively, “What do you think of Prince Xor?”

Keith raised a brow. “He’s okay, I guess. Not the best general, but he seems like a good person.”

“You trust him?”

Keith held his gaze with narrowed eyes, arms folded. “Yeah, I do. Do you?”

There was a pause, and Shiro let out a deep, slow breath. “Yes, but-” He bit his lip, and after a second of painful deliberation continued, “It’s just- well, I- he and Allura—”

Suddenly, a door Shiro had assumed led to a linen closet burst open; Shiro and Keith jumped up, but it was only Lance, standing triumphantly with his hands on his hips. “— _He and Allura have been inseparable all week and you’re burning with jealous rage because you’re madly in love with her?!_ ”

Keith and Shiro blinked at him in shocked silence. Lance waltzed into the room and Pidge appeared from behind him, both looking very self-satisfied. “We heard you guys talking from the other room,” Lance explained with a wave of the hand, falling onto the couch next to Keith.

“Did you know our rooms are connected the whole time?” Shiro asked, slowly sitting back down.

“They’re like weird hotel rooms,” Pidge interjected, “Mine’s connected to Hunk’s.”

“So-” Lance leaned forward with wiggling eyebrows, “Was I right?”

Shiro’s glance flickered between the faces of his teammates; from Lance’s expression, it seemed too late to turn back. He clenched his jaw, averting his eyes as his face flashed with heat. “Sort of-”

“ _Aha!_ ” Lance cried, pumping his fist, “I knew it!”

Just then the bedroom door- which Keith had left ajar- creaked open and Hunk’s face poked into the room. “Hey, are we having a team meeting? Did I miss something?”

“Shiro has a crush on Allura and he’s jealous of her and Prince Xor!” Pidge called in a mischievous tone. 

Shiro buried his head in his hands with a groan. “Just come in, Hunk— and please, dear God, close the door.” 

Hunk happily took a seat on the floor in front of the couch. “Oh man, that’s rough,” he offered, “Xor’s been laying on the charm _all_ week, I’ve seen a lot of arm touching-”

“Yeah, and Allura’s been all _oh thank you, Prince, oh you’re too kind, Prince-”_ Lance’s voice jumped an octave as he clasped his hands and fluttered his eyelashes at Hunk.

“ _Okay,_ thanks guys,” Shiro tried to deadpan but couldn’t help a smirk, “That was very helpful.”

“C’mon Shiro,” Keith said, elbowing Lance as they scuffled for space on the couch, “It’s not that bad.”

Lance gave a sympathetic smile. “Trust me, I can read vibes and Allura’s been giving you _vibes_ for forever! She’s only known this guy for a week, who cares?”

“Maybe she’d spend less time with Xor if you stopped acting like a pissy baby,” Pidge shrugged, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Shiro pursed his lips, chiding lightly, “Pidge, language-” He didn’t bother trying to defend himself.

“You’ll be fine, Shiro,” Hunk reassured him, “We’ve only got one more day on Andrean, and then after the ball we’ll leave and she’ll forget all about him.”

Shiro looked up with a raised brow. “ _Ball?_ ”

The rest of the Paladins looked at him blankly. Keith let out a short puff of air. “You really _have_ been out of it all week.”

Feeling somehow better _and_ worse than he did before, Shiro invoked bedtime rules and shooed everyone out of his suite. He made sure to lock the door that (apparently) connected his and Lance’s rooms, and fell into bed with a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, but his feelings and memories refused to stop swirling wildly. His thoughts drifted to the room upstairs; he wondered if its inhabitant was laying in bed too, staring at the ceiling. At that moment Shiro would’ve given anything to be back in the Castle, wandering aimlessly down its halls.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the team's mission draws to a close, Shiro is forced to confront his feelings for Allura

Shiro scanned the room, waiting for an optimal time to leave his safe position on the edges of the ballroom. The Great Hall was bustling, the dance floor crowded with dignitaries and socialites mingling before the chamber ensemble began playing; servers bearing overloaded trays of hors d’oeuvres and drinks wove through the sea of swirling skirts. The stone walls were draped with shimmering tapestries bearing the Andrean royal insignia and chandeliers cast a glow over the room, their crystals twinkling like the planet’s sparkling mist. 

Lance and Hunk could be spotted across the room, the latter attempting to teach the former how to _taste_ , not _scarf,_ the Andrean dishes. Pidge and Keith had grabbed drinks, claiming a sheltered table in the corner where they couldn’t easily be dragged into the social melee. Unfortunately, that left Shiro with small talk duty; something he generally didn’t mind in small doses, but dreaded when it involved being stuffed into a stiff diplomatic uniform with a starched collar and a hundred clasps and forced into a parade of monotonous introductions and innocuous comments.

He spotted his opening when Coran appeared through the filtering bodies. Shiro called to him, weaving his way toward the Altean, who would make the perfect buffer between him and the monumentally boring task ahead. Coran gladly took him under his wing and they slowly made their way around the room, Coran doing most of the talking and Shiro doing most of the nodding. Shiro was pretending to be following a conversation about the Polgarian Jabber Frog trade when a voice from the front of the hall called, “ _Presenting, Princess Allura of Altea!”_

Shiro followed everyone’s gaze over to the entrance stairs, and was glad he had a tight hold on the stem of his glass. Her long hair was pinned in soft curls that curved against the slope of her neck and shoulders. Something glinted above her forehead, a small tiara that picked up the gleaming crystals that clung to the bodice of her dress. She reached down to delicately lift the folds of her powder blue skirt as she descended the stairs. Allura was a _vision_ and Shiro couldn’t hear anything but the blood that his thrumming heart pounded through his veins. 

He was nudged out of his trance by Coran. “Come along Shiro, the first dance is about to start-” He shuffled back to the perimeter of the room as who but Allura and Xor appeared arm in arm at the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by a few other pairs. 

The musicians started up something akin to a waltz and Xor made a sweeping bow to Allura before taking her hand. Shiro’s eyes were glued to them as they began to glide across the floor; they were both elegant dancers, and Allura gazed up at Xor with a smile. Shiro drained the rest of his drink and forced himself to ignore the heat that crept up his neck at the sight of Prince Xor’s hand around her waist. 

Once the first dance finished the room relaxed again, and the less rhythmically inclined milled around the sides of the Great Hall. Shiro was content to end up at a table with Hunk and Pidge after Lance forcibly dragged Keith onto the dance floor. The night didn’t seem so bad when he was nibbling cheese under Hunk’s direction, with his back turned to any potential encounters with alien royalty. 

At least, until Pidge looked up with wide eyes and started hissing, “Shiro! Full moon at six o’clock—”

“What? Full m-” Shiro turned with knitted brows, only to come face to face with Allura. 

“Hello, Shiro,” Allura smiled down at him, extending a hand bedecked with gleaming rings and bracelets, “Would you care to dance? They’re about to start the next song.”

Shiro met her crystalline eyes, which blinked expectantly at him. His mouth opened and closed silently as the pit in his stomach argued with the warmth in his chest. He heard himself say, “Sure, Princess.”

She glanced at him as they made their way to the floor, saying loud enough to be heard over the bustle of the room, “You look nice tonight- the uniform suits you.”

“Oh- thank you,” Shiro cleared his throat, his mouth going dry as they reached their position. She folded one hand into his, soft fingers brushing his palm, and laid the other on his shoulder. Shiro’s right hand skimmed her waist, as if she were a dream that would slip through his fingers if he clung too hard. In fact, he wasn’t positive she _wasn’t_ a dream; everything felt too intoxicating— the scent that wafted from her skin, the warmth that buzzed between their bodies, even the full contours of her lips as she smiled at him. (But that might have been the wine.) He managed to catch her eyes and say, “You do too, Princess.”

Allura glance down at her jewelry. “I tried to get my chambermaid to tone it down a little, but she insisted. I will admit, though, it _is_ nice to get dressed up,“ she chuckled as the song began and they started swaying in time. After a moment she looked up at him with a smirk. “Shiro-” Suddenly her hand reached down and took his, pressing it flush against her waist. “-You _lead_.”

There was no hiding the redness in his cheeks and Allura didn’t do much to hide her amusement. His eyes flickered to hers, but he found it impossible to hold her gaze. There were too many things he desperately wanted to, but wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ say; and such close quarters were dangerous. There was a reason he had only spoken to her a handful of times that week outside of their diplomatic meetings. 

As if reading his mind Allura tilted her head slightly to the side, her lips curled but eyes searching. “You’ve been avoiding me lately, Shiro.” There was no discernible edge to her voice, but the intensity of her gaze forced Shiro’s eyes to her’s.

After a flash of panic Shiro collected himself and managed a feigned smile. “Avoiding you?”

“Yes- every time I turn around you’ve disappeared.” Her voice seemed to soften a little. “I’ve missed our walks.”

She was right and Shiro knew it, of course. The nights they spent meandering in the Castle seemed so long ago; how it had actually only been a week, Shiro had no idea. But, just as the thought crossed his mind, he saw Prince Xor across the room. Their glances met briefly, and something sour flooded Shiro’s stomach. He couldn’t help replying, “Well, you seemed to be in good enough company. I didn’t want to intrude.”

A flicker of confusion passed over Allura’s face. “What do you mean?”

Shiro smiled wryly but tried to keep his tone nonchalant. “Nothing, just— you and Prince Xor-”

Allura interrupted him with a _tsk_. Her tone sharpened, but a flush come into her cheeks as she muttered, “Why does everybody insist on steering the conversation to him?” She looked to the side, eyes narrowed. Shiro’s mind jumped to the conversation he had overheard. The phrase echoed in his head: _marrying age_. Suddenly, the color in Allura’s cheeks annoyed him. The two of them lapsed into tense silence until Allura, without looking at him, asked, “Is that why you ignored me today, at the gym?”

Shiro looked down at her. There was no sense trying to play dumb, so he answered shortly, “I was distracted, Princess. I’m sorry.”

“And yesterday, in the hall?” She was serious, her voice tight.

A tinge came into Shiro’s cheeks as he felt his stomach knotting again. None of this was her fault, but that didn’t seem to matter at the moment; he just kept thinking about Prince Xor’s hand on her arm, her waist, her shoulder. He let out a short, testy sigh. “It was a long day, I was tired— and not from a walk in the _rose garden_.” He didn’t check the snort of air that escaped him.

The music continued to float over them, but Allura stopped abruptly. Her grip on his hand tightened and her face reddened as the other couples continued twirling around them. “If you didn’t want to _dance_ , Shiro, you could have just said so.” 

Suddenly, he was alone on the dance floor, left to weave his way back to the margins of the party. 

As he approached his table, he saw his teammates circled intently around what appeared to be a precarious stack of cheese and crackers; a cry arose from the table as it collapsed under the weight of a final piece of garnish, the other Paladins clapping Hunk on the back for his valiant efforts. A smile pulled at Shiro’s face but he stopped in his tracks, realizing he shouldn’t join them. Without saying goodnight he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Just before he slipped out into the hall, he saw Allura standing with Coran against the wall, his hand laying comfortingly on her shoulder as she bowed her head and covered her forehead. The hot anger and indignation that had risen in his chest suddenly turned to a cold, dosing wave of shame. Shiro dragged a hand down his face, pulling at the collar of his uniform as he strode through the hall back to his room.

| **v | o** | **l** | **t** | **r** | **o** | **n** |

The sand felt good under his feet. The sea breeze rustled his hair and pulled gently at his t-shirt. Shiro took in a deep, slow breath. He leaned down to pull up the legs of his joggers and stepped ankle-deep into the tide, letting the cool water wash over him. Andrean’s two moons hung low over the distant horizon, their reflections wavering with the gentle movement of the ocean. 

Shiro was startled when a soft voice sounded behind him, “-May I join you?”

For the second time that night, Shiro turned to see Allura standing a few feet away. Her hair was unpinned, falling over her shoulders in locks that caught the moonlight. She waited for his answer, holding the hem of her nightgown away from the sand with a patiently tentative expression on her face. 

His initial surprise quickly receded into a crushing guilt at the sight of her. He nodded, “Of course.”

Allura sighed as the tide washed over her ankles. She gazed out at the sea, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence that hung between them. Shiro watched her, trying to decipher the expression in the curves of her face. Eventually she spoke, her eyes fluttering down to where their feet stood side by side in the surf. “I walked through the east wing the other night. It was very late- I thought I might run into you.” Shiro’s mouth opened slightly, his brows knitting, as she glanced up at him for a moment. “I bumped into Tala. She looked at me like I was crazy, wandering the halls.” 

Shiro was crushed by her dry smile. He clenched his jaw, looking away from her. He knew there was a way to fix things, to make them right; but, as the pounding in his chest reminded him, that was the very thing he was afraid of. 

 _God_ , he was such a coward. Were his feelings, his pride, really more important than _Allura_? Would he really lose _this_ \- them standing side by side, the soft voice that kept him sane during the night, the friend that only wanted to reach out to him- because of some jealous fit?

He closed his eyes, letting a slow breath escape him. “Princess, there’s something I need to say-”  When he looked over her eyes were on him, patient and prompting. Shiro didn’t try to fight the deep flush that came into his face. He forced himself to turn to Allura, meeting her gaze as evenly as he could. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a terrible friend. _Really._ I know I’ve been distant, and cold, and there’s no excuse for that. You said you trusted me, and I hurt you— but I want to explain, as best I can.” Allura was searching his face with knitted brows, but said nothing. He continued, “The way you talked about Prince Ronan, and how close you were-” Shiro stopped, pausing to consider how to proceed “Well- you and Prince Xor—”

“—You know, I wasn’t sure what to expect when we got to Andrean,” Allura interrupted suddenly, looking at Shiro- whose eyebrows shot up but lapsed into silence- and then back at the ocean. “I just kept thinking of my memories, and even though I _knew_ it had been thousands of years…part of me expected it all to be here. Ronan was a dear friend, and I am happy to see that his people are still thriving-” A frown pulled at her lips. “But he is gone. That time is gone. And Prince _Xor_ — he’s not his grandfather.” Even in the moonlight, Shiro could see a flush coming into her face. His stomach flipped, but he kept his lips sealed. “He’s charming, certainly, but-” She let out a slow sigh, “It’s like every minute I spent with him was another reminder of how everything’s changed— how much I lost. Everything felt- heavy.” There was a catch in her voice, but after a moment she said, “But when I talk to you, Shiro, it all feels lighter.” Allura glanced up at him through her long lashes, the corners of her lips curling up. Then, suddenly, her expression dropped and an edge came into her voice. “Shiro, you’re an incredible leader. You’re careful, insightful, organized— but sometimes, you’re an absolute _idiot_.”

Shiro’s mouth dropped as her eyes flashed, but he held his tongue, knowing he deserved whatever she was going to say.

“Did you really think I would just replace one prince with another? That I could be won over with flattery? With toasts, and bows, and flowery words? That I’m so concerned with politics that I would throw away something so important just to please a _minister_?” She jabbed an accusing finger at him, heat coming into her face.

Shiro held up his hands, sputtering, “No, Princess, of course not! I know how much Rona-”

Allura interrupted him again, crying, “Do you really not see what I’m saying?” When Shiro’s face only registered panic, she sighed, catching her lower lip on her teeth. “I cannot believe you’re making me embarrass myself like this-” She held up a hand to stop his protests- “I know it was you, listening to my conversation with Tala, on the balcony. But you missed an important part, when you nearly took your door off its hinges.” Shiro’s face was in flames, but Allura just smiled, clasping her hands in front of her. “She was quite excited to match make between the prince and myself, so, obviously, she was disappointed when I told her I had no interest in Xor. She said, there had to be _somebody_ in the picture if I could resist their irresistible prince…and I told her she was right.” Shiro was beginning to feel nauseous. He wanted to look away, but Allura’s gaze was magnetic and he couldn’t seem to see anything but her. “That there was this officer- he was kind, and handsome, and thoughtful. And we understood each other better than anyone else. That we could tell each other anything- but lately, we didn’t. Because we were scared.” Her voice was soft. “Because we would rather hide how we felt than lose what we had.”

The blood drained from Shiro’s face. Allura was leaning closer. 

For a second, the world seemed to pull far, far away from him. His heart stopped. All he could hear was the tide, all he could see was the gleam in Allura’s eyes and the gentle curve of her lips parting. 

Then, all at once, everything collided. 

She fell into him, her hands reaching up to catch his face. Shiro’s eyes fluttered shut as the space that had separated them for so long was shattered and every secretly cherished daydream burst into reality. Their lips met, ardently, fervently, and all the things left unsaid disappeared. Shiro’s hands wrapped hungrily around her waist, determined never to let go. Every touch of her soft lips, her fingers grazing his jaw, her breath on his cheek, was electrifying. He was sure Allura could feel his heart beating wildly as she leaned into his chest, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the sweet scent wafting off of her, her fingers sifting through his hair, the sigh that escaped her lips as they parted. 

His head was spinning, but an inexplicably singular thought arose from the haze. “Allura,” Shiro murmured in the agonizing seconds her lips left his, “Your dress-”

They had stumbled further into the tide, and the delicate silk of Allura’s slip was soaked with seawater almost to the knee. Her hands slid down to rest on his chest as she pressed slow, soft kisses against his mouth. “Shiro,” she laughed breathily as he leaned down to nuzzle against her forehead, “I don’t _care_ —”

Shiro smiled against her lips, untangling his hand from her hair to fold it over hers. He leaned down to brush a kiss against her knuckles, searching her face. “Y'know, I missed our walks, too, Princess.”

Allura reached up to brush a lock of hair from Shiro’s forehead, her face flushing and eyes gleaming. She entwined her fingers with his, pulling just enough so he would follow her lead as she starting drifting down the beach. Shiro fell into step with her and she curled her arm around his, leaning her head against his shoulder with a slow, contented sigh. He felt the vibrations of her throaty chuckle as they splashed gently through the tide. “ _Princess_ -” she mused, “Always so formal…”


End file.
